Okay, I'm not happy with the poem in the next post. I wrote it in about 20 minutes in a fit of angst and EAPS- damn you Edgar- and so it expresses the emotion of the moment and incorporates my foundational verse (give it up for Zephanaiah baby!) However, I don't know if you have not heard my story if it will make enough sense. Whatever, I could write a really obscure poem about the things I see in this room and some idiots would interpret it to be about the Crimean War or something. Lets see:

Wall of glass
Taunting the small resident
Reflection of hostility
Teasing and tormenting freedom just out of touch
Cauterized hands
Ineffective weapons- ever ready
No longer needed.

There- relatively minor war, or my cat looking out at the sliding door of my apartment at the birds and wanting to eat them, but really- if she ever got out she would be terrified.